Degrees of Hope

by Catherine Winchester

  “Do you need to return home?” Mrs Cooper asked.

  “I don't know. If he is smart, James will ask to be tried by the House of Lords and so have to come to London. I don't believe that they have never found one of their own guilty of duelling before.”

  “He is nobility then?”

  “Yes, although he is the second son and had hoped to make the church his profession.”

  “And if he doesn't request a trial by his peers?”

  “Then he is a fool!” Hope cried.

  “Considering that duelling is illegal, I think that his foolishness has already been proven.” Mrs Cooper said, as kindly as she could.

  “You're right,” Hope sighed. In fact, refusing a trial by the House of Lords sounded just like something James might do, preferring to be tried by a petty jury of regular men.

  “Can your father not help? He is a magistrate, is he not?” Mrs Cooper asked.

  “Yes. Mother says that he is trying, but magistrates only deal with small crimes. James' case will be heard by the Assize Court, which usually comes to Marchwood in July.”

  “I am sorry, my dear.”

  “Thank you.” Hope managed a weak smile. “If I might retire to my room for a while, I should like to reply to the letter.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. I shall have your sketch finished by dinner time, I assure you.”

  “Oh piffle, there's plenty of time for that. You do what you must.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Cooper. You are very kind to me.”

  She left the room, MacDuff following faithfully after her.

  A little later that afternoon, there came a knock on Hope's door and Mrs Cooper came in.

  “I hope you don't mind, my dear, but I asked Edward Klein to stop by. He is very well informed on most legal matters and I thought that if he couldn't set your mind at ease, at least he could help you understand what might happen.”

  “That's very kind of you,” Hope smiled, “but please don't put him to any trouble on my account.”

  “He's already here, my dear. He rushed over as soon as I sent the note. Would you like to talk with him?”

  “Indeed.” Hope stood up, pleased that he would care enough about her to be so eager to help.

  Edward was waiting in the front parlour, sipping a cup of tea as he waited for them. He rose to his feet and took Hope's hands as she came in.

  “You look pale,” he said.

  “Yes, I have been taken a little by surprise by these events, I confess.”

  “Then sit down and tell me everything.”

  “That could take some time.”

  “I'm not going anywhere.”

  So Hope sat and began her tale with Honoria and Malcolm moving to Marchwood. She noticed that Edward absently reached out and petted MacDuff behind the ears for a while, although his attention still seemed focused on her.

  Hope was able to go into quite a bit of detail about events, until it came to James discovering Honoria's abuse. She didn't know how he had found out, nor how much he knew. She let him read her mother's letter for himself but it too wasn't specific on many details.

  “So?” Hope asked, willing him to have good news.

  “Mother told me that he is a noble and if he chooses for his case to he heard by the House of Lords, I believe that they will find him innocent. Not only are they unwilling to convict one of their own, given the provocation your friend received, I can't see how they would convict him.”

  “But?” Hope asked, clearly knowing that he wasn't finished but was hesitant to continue.

  “Should he choose a trial in the Assizes Court, I cannot believe that he would not be found guilty. And of course, given that he is of good character as you say, there is always the possibility that he will plead guilty.

  Hope visibly blanched.

  “No, he can't! I won't let him! That monster has taken too much from me already; I won't let him take Honoria's brother too!”

  “Then perhaps I could represent him,” Edward suggested.

  “But you are a prosecutor!”

  “Indeed, which means that I am very well placed to advocate for him. I can talk to the prosecution and see if they would be willing to indict him on a lesser charge.”

  “What about the trial?” she asked.

  That will likely be short, probably no longer than a day, if that. We will need to show that, James is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we will need to show that James received considerable provocation to act this way.”

  “How will that help?”

  “Because the jury and judge will likely be more lenient on him if we do. Now, do you have any proof of the abuse Honoria suffered at her husband's hand?”

  “Only what I saw. Mother witnessed her cut lip once, and she heard Honoria's confession after she lost the baby.”

  “But neither of you actually saw her being beaten?”

  “No,” Hope sighed. “I'm certain that his household staff did but Malcolm has terrified them into silence.”

  “You would be surprised how often fear of the law overcomes other fears,” Edward tried to reassure her. “I believe that once under oath, they will most likely tell the truth.”

  “So you think we have a chance?”

  Edward considered his next words carefully before replying.

  “If Mr Arundell should die, then I believe that we have a chance of escaping the death penalty but unless Mr Ashdown chooses a trial by the House of Lords, he will not get away with this.”

  Hope nodded her understanding and Edward was impressed with how well she was taking the news.

  “So what might he be sentenced to?”

  “After the death sentence, the most likely outcome is life in prison or transportation.”

  Hope nodded her understanding. “Thank you for your candour.”

  “You are very welcome.”

  “Looking at the best case scenario, what might happen if Malcolm should survive?”

  “Mr Ashdown will likely be charged with assault, although there is always the chance that we could talk Mr Arundell out of pressing charges, or perhaps buy him off with compensation.”

  “I doubt he would let bygones be bygones,” Hope confessed. “He has a mean and bitter nature, and it is my understanding that he does not want for money.”

  “Perhaps, but men who love money are often keen to hoard more.”

  “And if he does go to trial?”

  “In that instance, given the provocation, we may even be able to get a not guilty verdict.”

  “Who would have ever thought that I would be praying for Malcolm's good health!” she said, recognising the irony.

  Edward returned her smile. “And my offer to represent him in court still stands, no matter the charges.”

  “Then I accept.”

  “Won't you have to check with Mr Ashdown?”

  “James' family fortunes have been dwindling for a while now, mostly gambled away by his father. According to Honoria, he receives a small stipend from a grandmother, I believe, but nowhere near enough to afford your fees. I shall be paying for your services, and I don't intend to give James a chance to say 'no'.”

  Edward smiled, appreciating her spirit and decisiveness.

  “Then I hope it will be a pleasure working with you.” He held his hand out and Hope shook it.

  It was decided that Edward Klein would journey to Marchwood the following day and speak with James, although the news he had to report was not good.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hope couldn't believe the total and utter idiocy of James. She reread Edward's letter again, just to be sure but she hadn't read it wrong.

  James was insisting on pleading guilty!

  Edward had done what he could to talk James out of it but without success.

  On a happier note, Edward was confident that he could secure bail for James since her father, Lucien, had agreed not only to speak to James' character, but also to put up th
e bail money. The hearing was tomorrow and Edward was confident that James would be free by sundown.

  Malcolm's condition was unchanged, seriously ill but alive.

  Although she still had another two days in London with Mrs Cooper, she decided to leave early and return to Marchwood, arriving on the 5 o'clock train.

  No one knew to expect her and MacDuff, so she hailed a hansom cab to drive her home and arrived at the same time as James, who was returning from the Magistrates Court with her father.

  She hadn't really given much thought to where he would be staying but of course her parents would offer to put him up. He could hardly continue to lodge with Malcolm, could he? He was probably also bound over to stay in the county, or some such, so returning to London was out of the question for him too.

  She also hadn't given any thought to how he would appear but although it had only been little more than a week since she had seen him, he looked decidedly different. His curly hair looked even more dishevelled than usual. He looked slightly gaunt, his pallor was grey, and he had dark smudges under his eyes.

  Despite how bad he looked, he found a smile as he got out of the carriage and noticed her.

  “Hope.” That was all he said as he stepped towards her, his eyes shining.

  Hope stared dumbly at him, trying to process his altered appearance. As he reached her, he took her in his arms and held her tightly. Hope couldn't help but put her arms around him too, for he seemed to be in such pain.

  “I'm so sorry,” he said as he pulled away, taking hold of her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “You were right, I was such a fool.”

  His tears spilled over and this time it was Hope who held him.

  “Hush,” she soothed. “We don't have to talk about this now. Come on, let's get you inside. You'll feel better once you've had a bath and a change of clothes.”

  James pulled away and looked down at himself. Although he had not been in jail for long, it had taken its toll on his appearance.

  “Yes, indeed. I-”

  “This way,” Lucien said, coming up behind them. He gave Hope a quick kiss on her cheek, then guided James inside.

  James went up to his room to settle in and change, whilst Lucien joined Hope and Martha in the back parlour. After they had caught up on Hope's news, which she glossed over, they gave her some more detail on what had happened since she had left but even they didn't know much.

  Finally James joined them, looking a little better but still not himself. Hope might almost call him withdrawn, which definitely wasn't in his character. Lucien fetched him a glass of brandy and once he had regained a little colour, they pressed him for details.

  He explained how he had been unable to forget Hope's final words, and how he had searched for and eventually found Honoria's diary. Although he didn't go into too much detail, it was clear that what he had read was far worse than any picture they could have painted for him.

  Feeling guilty and needing to avenge his sister, he had challenged Malcolm to a duel.

  “But how did you get him to agree?” Hope asked, for that was surely the most incomprehensible thing in this whole story. Malcolm was a coward and she simply couldn't picture him endangering his life to salve his pride. Besides, in his mind at least, he hadn't done anything wrong!

  “I insulted him, repeatedly, in front of his detective and his staff, then I threatened to get Honoria's diaries printed and hand a copy to every one of his acquaintance if he didn't agree.”

  Well yes, she could see how that kind of threat might make him agree.

  “I'm not sorry,” James continued. “Someone had to stand up to him. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner.”

  “Did you keep the diaries?” Hope asked.

  “I don't know what happened to them,” James confessed.

  “I collected them,” Lucien said. “When I went to collect your belongings, they were sitting on your dresser.”

  “The lawyer said we would need them for the defence.” Hope smiled at her father's foresight.

  “No,” James sat forward. “No defence. I will take my punishment. I deserve it.”

  “James-”

  “No!” He cut Hope off. “I have failed my sister. I deserve to pay, if not for shooting Malcolm, then for not listening to her, not helping her.”

  “James, if you plead guilty, it will be an automatic death sentence!” That wasn't quite true, according to Edward Klein, but it was a risk. “If Honoria could see you now, she would be horrified! And no doubt blaming herself. Is that what you would want?”

  “She is safe now,” he said. “She is with God and her child. What I do cannot hurt her.”

  Hope looked to her parents, seeking their permission. After a silent conversation with each other, Martha nodded at Hope.

  “She isn't dead.” Hope told James.

  “Of course she is,” he said sullenly. “Either by his hand or her own.”

  “No, James.” She moved to sit next to him. “She isn't dead, I swear it.”

  He looked up at her, staring deep into her eyes as though he could discover the truth in them.

  “How do you know?” He asked.

  “First I need your word that you will not tell anyone, anyone at all, not even your family, and especially not Malcolm.”

  “You have it,” he said easily. Too easily.

  “In the eyes of the law, Malcolm owns your sister, if he ever finds her, he can force her to return to him, or have her locked up. Do you understand?”

  “I do. I swear before the Lord that I will never reveal to another living soul what you are about to tell me, and may God strike me dead if I do.”

  “She's alive,” Hope said, smiling. “I will tell you where eventually, but they have new identities and we hope, can never be traced.”

  “They?” he asked, confused.

  “Well, meaning no disrespect to your sister, we thought that she would be safer with some company, so my Aunt Mary went with her.”

  “Of course,” he said, as suddenly the pieces fell into place. Both women disappearing on the same day, one related to Hope and Martha. It also meant that Malcolm had been right about the Beaumonts, they had helped his sister escape. Rather than being angry that he had been duped though, all James felt was relief that Honoria was safe.

  “My mother is worried terribly about my sister,” Martha said. “But I dare not even tell her, that is how much keeping your sister safe means to us.”

  “You all did this?” James looked from Martha to Lucien, who nodded. “Then I owe you all a debt of gratitude that I can never hope to repay.”

  “You owe us nothing, James,” Hope insisted, “but you do owe it to your sister to fight. Don't roll over and allow Malcolm to have you hanged. However foolish your actions may have been, he deserved what you did, and more. In fact, if you wouldn't be charged with murder were he to die, I would be praying for it.”

  Slowly, James nodded.

  “You are right, of course. My sister wouldn't want me to give up, but you are wrong also. As much as I wish Malcolm harm, you should not pray for his death. Do not let his badness rub off on you.”

  “I haven't,” Hope assured him. “But if God is truly just, he would have taken Malcolm from this earth and saved everyone a great deal of heartache.”

  “You cannot blame God for the sins of man,” James said. “We were given the gift of free will but equally, that allows some people to abuse that freedom. God is not responsible for Malcolm's actions, any more than you are.”

  Hope could have rolled her eyes but there was a certain amount of truth in what he said.

  “Perhaps in sending Honoria to you, he did what he could to save her,” Malcolm continued.

  “Thank you,” Hope said, taking his hand and squeezing it briefly. “Now, have you spoken with the lawyer?”

  “Not properly,” James confessed. “I tried not to listen to what he had to say.”

  “He's staying at the Bridge Inn in town,” Lucien said. “I'll
send word that you want to meet with him tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, I'll reimburse you for the fees.”

  “Actually Edward Klein informs me that it's Hope who is covering the costs.”

  “Oh no,” James turned to Hope. “You can't do that, I can't let you.”

  “I can and I am.” Hope said, raising an aristocratic eyebrow.

  James' first instinct was to refuse any charity from a woman, after all, they were the weaker creatures. Then he remembered how they had fought over women's rights and intelligence. A week ago he might still have argued his point of view with her but now, after these women not only saw what he could not but actually took action to save his sister, he didn't feel so justified in his opinions any longer. Plus, he knew that it would not hurt her financially and to refuse might even be insulting.

  “Thank you,” he said with sincerity.

  At Hope's request, the next morning Edward Klein stopped by to speak with James and this time the conversation was much more productive. The upshot was that only if Malcolm Arundell lives, would James have a chance of escaping jail, and it was only a chance.

  Edward, Hope, Martha and even Lucien pleaded with James to take the option to be tried by his peers, in the House of Lords but on that point, James was still adamant.

  “How can I preach to a congregation when I hold myself above them?”

  “How can you preach to a congregation in jail?” Hope snapped back. Martha and Lucien had needed to leave to meet with their accountant, so only Hope and Edward remained to argue with him.

  “Perhaps it's God's plan that I minister to my fellow inmates,” James reasoned.

  “That's not God's plan, that's your choice!”

  Edward watched the exchange with interest. Hope seemed to dislike this man and yet she was paying for his defence. Even if James' sister was her friend, it was above and beyond the call of duty and he didn't really understand it.

  “Then if it is really my choice, why are you arguing with me?”

  “Because you are making the wrong choice, James. After everything we have done for your sister, you are just going to throw your freedom away.” She threw her arms up. “Fine, you're right, that is your choice. Maybe when they sentence you to die, you'll realise I was right but once again, it will be too late.” She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.